Smiles of Sorrow
by HotaruBoshi
Summary: Above all, Uchiha Itachi loved his brother.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: So, I've had this on my mind for over a year, but I never managed to write in the right tone. Here it is now, and I hope it's not to disappointing. Also, I'd like to point out that while I admire Itachi, killing his clan was _not_ the right thing. It was a horrible thing to do. Now before all of you start accusing me for bashing Itachi-kun, let me finish. Killing his clan was far from the _right thing_ to do, but it was the _only thing_ he _could_ do. **

**Sorry, I just had to say it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Naruto. _**

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The summer sky was red.

As the scarlet sun fell below the black mountains, a gentle breeze caressed the trees that dotted the countryside. The land, a lonesome realm of nature, became quiet; the birds returned to their nests, the squirrels to their dens, and the humans to their homes. A pair of crimson eyes gazed upwards into the waning light.

"Kisame," his weary voice was soft, but his partner heard it none-the-less.

"Hai, Itachi-san, there's an inn not two miles from here." The taller of the two responded politely. He turned and guided Itachi through the underbrush.

To an innocent youth, it would seem that the two men were friends. But Itachi knew that neither of them harbored any sort of affection for the other. They were simply partners in crime. Itachi did not trust Kisame, and he did not expect or hope for Kisame to trust him. They were seasoned shinobi. They could not afford to trust anyone.

Within minutes they arrived at the lonely, run-down inn. The bartender bowed respectfully and did not comment once on their slit hitai-ate. Doubtlessly he had hosted enough shinobi to know that they did not take kindly to intrusions of their privacy. As it was, Itachi had noticed half a dozen Konoha shinobi seated beside them.

"…are utterly hopeless." He heard one of them say, and he wondered if the man knew how loudly he had uttered the phrase. Itachi knew without a doubt that this man was a rookie. True shinobi did not gossip casually without an ulterior motive; they would not have let their guard down as these men had. In the long run, rookies were the first to be disposed of. These men were garbage.

He could see that Kisame knew this, too. The Kiri-nin's sneer was wide, and his derisive snort did nothing to hide his contempt. _Suckers. Can't say a bloody word without leaking information._ Kisame displayed his emotions openly, but that did not cause him to be weak. He never lost control of himself or surrendered to his emotions. He was an unyielding tempest that mocked and tortured its victims without mercy. He was the wind that howled, the thunder that roared, and the sleet that shrieked. Kisame was a _monster_.

If Kisame was the storm, then Itachi was the clouds. He was unmovable, unreadable, unpredictable; he was patient. He would hide himself, allowing his prey to fall into a false sense of security and ease. He would play the soft and harmless prey. But when the time was right, he would strike. He would rain upon his victim endlessly. And then, slowly but surely, the piteous fool that had fallen for his ploy would realize that there was nothing to do but die. In the end, no matter how long he had to wait, Itachi would emerge the victor. His victories were not the result of him being the strongest: Itachi was not arrogant, he knew that there were those stronger than he; no, he won simply because he was wise. He knew that precious treasure could come from a garbage bin.

That was why he listened so closely to the conversation of these greenhorns.

"What do you mean, Kimura?" One of them, a blonde, exclaimed. "Didn't all the Uchiha die eight years ago? I never heard anything about a survivor, let alone about the survivor running off with Orochimaru of all people!"

"Daichi, calm down. Yes, most of the Uchiha died back then, but there are still two survivors. One of them is Sharingan no Itachi, and the other is his younger brother, Sasuke." Another, Kimura, stated.

Another chimed in, "Yeah, apparently Itachi killed his entire clan, but he spared his brother for some reason, even though he murdered his own parents. Then he ran off and joined some organization. Last I heard, his little bro up and went with Orochimaru. I don't see why he would do that, though. I mean, I've been told that the snake Sannin was only interested in stealing his body, so why the heck did that Sasuke join him? And why did Itachi kill his entire clan _but not kill him_?"

An awkward silence followed, and Itachi wondered in amusement what conclusion these rookies would come to. They could assume all they wanted: he knew with confidence that they would not discover the truth.

"It's likely that Sasuke is willing to do anything to avenge his clan." Kimura remarked. "I mean, if _my _brother murdered my family without explanation, I would probably want to kill him. Only, I don't understand why Itachi spared him. Obviously, he didn't love him all that much, so why did he do it?"

"Does it really matter, Kimura? Anyways, if Sasuke ends up somehow surviving with Orochimaru, he'll probably go on to kill Itachi, right?"

"If he wanted to keep his body, he'd have to kill Orochimaru, too. And that would be a major benefit to Konoha, wouldn't it? Basically, two birds with one stone applies here." Kimura paused. Itachi realized where the conversation was going, and it pleased him greatly. "You know, the Uchiha clan probably isn't _that_ bad. They are a little messed up, but they do benefit the world in some ways, don't they? One of these days, I'm sure we'll hear some incredible news about Uchiha Sasuke killing Orochimaru or something. And once he's also dealt with his brother, he'll return to Konoha. He'll be a hero!"

"Wow, that really makes sense!"

"Yeah, and once he comes back, our village will also gain lots of glory!"

"Well, guys, what are we waiting for? Let's drink! To Uchiha Sasuke!"

"Yes, to Uchiha Sasuke! And may he swiftly deal justice upon villains such as Uchiha Itachi!"

The conversation had gone exactly as he had hoped. The Uchiha clan would again inspire awe and admiration in Konoha, and the other villages would know the might and terror of his clan. And his dear foolish brother, his precious Sasuke, would be the hero.

Uchiha Itachi smiled.

To the bartender who watched wordlessly, it was the mocking smirk of an insane maniac.

To the young waitresses, it was the devilish smile of a mysterious and handsome man.

In the eyes of a drunken robber, it was a wicked grin of anticipation and satisfaction.

Kisame, watching his partner from the corner of his eyes, deemed it one of the rare but genuine smiles that came from Itachi's twisted sense of justice. He would never forget it.

Truly, it was the smile of a suffering man. It was the smile of a man who lived to die. Uchiha Itachi was not a kind man; he was cold and cared for no one but himself.

Above all, Itachi loved his brother.

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**If there were any grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out! Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment in the review section!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: When I wrote this story, I had actually planned it as a one-shot. But just a few hours after publishing it, I received an encouraging review from DrMessed, and it really made my day. Thank you, DrMessed. But that review wasn't the only deciding factor. Shortly afterwards, I discovered that another author had put this story into their favorites section. I'm really grateful for both of their kind actions, so I'm dedicating this chapter to DrMessed and xchrispx.**

_**I don't own Naruto.**_

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The autumn sky was grey.

The clouds were weeping. These seemingly carefree and radiant creatures were now broken and dark. They were _dead_. Itachi gazed into the lifeless skies and reflected on pain; he believed that ultimately, pain was a product of evil and of death. If there was no death or evil in the world, there would have been no pain.

Deidara was dead.

Itachi had never considered Deidara a friend or even a comrade. In Akatsuki, it did not matter that someone died, it only mattered if they had leaked any information before their death. No one would mourn their passing. Shinobi were tools and monsters, and nothing more. Either they were hailed as heroes, or they were condemned as murderers.

Itachi knew that he would never be hailed as a hero. He did not deserve to be.

He knew without a doubt that Deidara's passing would not be mourned. He had no living family to cry for him or wish him peace in death. There was no one in Iwagakure, in the world, who would miss him. Sasori was dead, and had he lived, he would not have cried for his partner. Itachi did not care that Deidara had fallen in battle, he did not care that Akatsuki was down by one member: he cared about the person that fought Deidara in his last moments. He cared to know if that person was ready to take his life next.

He cared to know if his dear foolish brother, his precious Sasuke, was ready to kill him.

In some dark corner of his mind, Itachi was afraid that his brother could not kill him. Not because he believed that Sasuke lacked power—he had a long way to go, but his little brother had the ability to drive him to limits he had never reached—Itachi was afraid that Sasuke would lose the resolve to kill him. He feared that his brother would remember the happy moments of their childhood and, instead of killing him, return to Konoha without fulfilling his life-long goal. The thought of such a thing happening chilled Itachi to the bone.

During quiet nights when sleep escaped him, the thought would come to haunt him. What if his only chance of justice, his only hope of redemption, was snatched away? Itachi did not fear pain or fear his illness, he did not even fear death—Itachi was afraid that Sasuke would not deal justice upon him. He longed for the day that he would feel death's cold embrace, for the day that Sasuke would stand victorious over his dead body.

Uchiha Itachi longed to die.

"You know, Itachi-san, you don't have an infinite amount of blood, and with the way you're clenching your fists…"

Itachi looked over his shoulder to meet Kisame's eyes. He relaxed his hands and allowed the rain to wash off the blood that had seeped from the wounds inflicted by his painted nails. "…you'll waste what little blood that you have."

"I know," he replied softly, "I simply don't care."

Kisame grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "Oh, but Itachi-san, I thought that you wanted your brother to fight you. If this continues, you'll be too weak to keep to that commitment." Kisame was not dimwitted, as some thought, so it did not surprise Itachi that he knew of those things.

"I do not care so long as it ends with my death, Kisame." Itachi wondered if Kisame had sensed that his death was near. Perhaps Kisame was testing his resolve.

"You always seem to have an answer, don't you?"

"Perhaps," For the first time in many years, Itachi was not sure of himself. He did not know what the future held, and he would never know.

He did not care to know.

Above all, Itachi loved his brother.

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**I want to make this clear: I consider what Itachi did to himself a form of suicide. I don't support suicide in any way. But I do understand that he would have felt miserable about killing his clan. If you have any critical thoughts about this story, feel free to express them. Thanks for reading! **


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